Love

You haven’t seen love yet,
Because just like Yashoda looking into the mouth of baby Krishna — you wouldn’t be able to take it.
It’s that large, that deep, that bright, that unworldly.
And to reach it’s epicentre of blinding brightness,
You will have to cross oceans of darkness. Of unbearable agony.
Of blinding illusions. Of untold grief.
Of exiled life…

You haven’t seen love yet,
Because if you had, you would have known —
That it’s not right, it’s not wrong
It’s not black, it’s not white, not grey…
It’s not even red.
It’s vibrations. Like that of the universe.
Like that of a calm ocean.
Waves you say…?
Waves are just its beginning. Its growling rage.
Tides in moonlight its passion spent…
Entangled bodies and hearts it’s popular image–
But not it.

You have seen something else.
Something you have been taught to believe is love.
Something I will never understand.
Something only a few will find.
And only a rare few will become.

You have not seen love because if you had–
You would not be what you are–
I wouldn’t be me.
She wouldn’t be her.
He wouldn’t be him.
They wouldn’t be them.
We would be floating together in the brightness, the Sufi-ness, the endlessness of it–